Lost In A Moment Where The Stars Align
by disapprovalApparent
Summary: Completely AU, Brittana centric. After bailing on New Directions six years ago, Santana is back with a not-so-welcome revelation.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note;; This was originally just for my LJ, but thanks to my lovely (annoying as all get out) beta LeftiesAreHot, I'm uploading this story onto this site as well. The things I do for that pain in the butt.**

**Just as a note, this story is not a top priority of mine and will be updated very...very slowly. Hope you enjoy it anyway!  
**

* * *

"That," Noah Puckerman pronounced succinctly, "was fucking ace."

With an answering grin and a happy squeal and wiggle, Brittany Pierce clung all the tighter to Rachel Berry, contagious laughter, excitement and remaining adrenaline bubbling forth as they jumped up and down. Mike Chang stood off to the side, exchanging more manly fistbumps and silent, masculine uplifts of brows with Matt Ruthorford, Artie Abrams and Noah. A goofy looking Finn Hudson had his arm draped brotherly over the perfectly coiffed Kurt Hummel, who in turn was talking rather animatedly with Mercedes Jones, Quinn Fabray and Tina Cohen-Chang. They were all pumped, the experience they just shared leaving them flushed and proud of themselves and each other.

After all, it wasn't everyday that just anyone got to perform at the White House.

"Ms Pierce," Someone materialized at Brittany's elbow, pulling her attention away, "someone wishes to speak to you privately in your dressing room. An _appreciative_ audience member," He added with a slight sniff.

Wary, Brittany murmured that she'd be right back, peeling herself away from the rest of New Directions and making her way to the room. Before she left, she exchanged nods with Puck, the narrowing of his eyes telling her that he would follow at a distance to make sure nothing untoward happened. One could never be too careful, even in a place as carefully guarded as this.

When she opened the door, she'd expected to be congratulated, shake a hand of a stranger and make smalltalk, or even get propositioned by a sleazy scumbag. She had not been expected to be greeted with the all too familiar sight of tanned skin dressed revealingly in a dark dress, under which toned muscles flexed gently, dark hair seemingly carelessly swept up and pinned in a knot at the other's nape. Mouth suddenly dry, Brittany silently moved forward, one hand outstretched despite herself, fingers quivering before she yanked her arm back. She wanted so badly to touch them gently to an arm she had once caressed for hours at a time, but ultimately decided not to give either of them the satisfaction.

"Santana?" Slowly, the other woman turned around, before even white teeth flashed in a lazy smile- One that the blonde used to be a recipient of on a near daily basis. It'd been six years since she had seen it, and the sudden torrent of memories first weakened her knees, before she shoved them away and straightened proudly. She refused to break.

"Britt," Santana greeted her, darkened eyes trailing appreciatively over the blonde's body, dressed in snug jeans and blouse- Their outfit for the last performance.

The easiness and familiarity of the greeting and blatant look had Brittany squaring her jaw, pale blue eyes narrowing slightly. "_What_ are you doing here?" She bit out, the uncharacteristic harshness of her voice causing Santana to focus on her face instead of her chest and legs.

"Me?" Santana asked innocently, brows raising as she gave the taller girl another once-over, "Just _enjoying_ the show, of course." That motion left Brittany with the urge to cross her arms over her front in defence, to shield herself from that gaze.

"No games, Santana." She snapped, irate. "Why are you here?"

Turning to fully face the blonde, Santana shifted ever closer, so close that if she lifted up on her toes, she'd be able to touch their mouths together. However, the Latina did nothing of the sort, choosing instead to just stay there almost challengingly, temptingly, tauntingly... Insolently.

"_Honestly?_ I'm back to reclaim something I should never have lost."

Breaths coming faster, Brittany swallowed and, for all her natural grace, swayed back and forth slightly, unable to stay still upright. She refused to dignify that deliberately provoking statement with a reply, instead tucking her itchy hands into her pockets so she wouldn't be tempted to touch the beautiful face so close to hers.

Clearly amused, Santana had no such inhibitions. One hand lifted to gently caress Brittany's collarbone, dipping into the hollow at the base of her neck. "Aren't you going to ask about it? Once upon a time, you would have done so." Her voice was silky, a little mocking.

"Yeah well, I grew up." when a knock sounded at her door, Brittany tore her gaze away from Santana's deep brown eyes, starting to move towards it. Before she could take more than a couple of steps, slim fingers closed upon her shoulder, pulling her back around with enough force that she stumbled into the shorter woman's arms.

"I'm going to tell you anyway," The Latina murmured, breath dancing over the taller girl's face. When she noticed that Brittany's line of sight had dropped to her mouth, her smooth, sensual lips curved upwards as she allowed herself a few seconds to relish her victory before she crashed their lips together, dredging up memories long killed and buried the both of them oblivious to the incessant pounding on the door.


	2. Chapter 1

_Flashback: 13 years ago_

For a long time now, they hadn't had a set place to call home. Home was always shifting; they went wherever the best tidings brought them. Once an area was picked clean of jobs and sympathy, they moved on. For a few days at each place, they set up a small fair of sorts to draw in a bit of extra cash. People called them street-performers, others called them gypsies, yet more called them beggars. It wasn't much of a life in way of living, but it was what they were used to and so far, none of the children were complaining. This life was all they knew, and most of them were still young and idealistic enough to consider it an adventure. The idea of being stuck in one place all the time made them scrunch up their noses and frown- Sometimes cry, should the adults use it as a threat.

Despite the less than stellar lifestyle, they were happy enough. Those without anywhere to go, orphans, beggars- They were all welcomed in, provided that they could pull their own weight. Adult freeloaders were not acceptable, and children were expected to keep up with studies. Sue Sylvester, the unanimous leader of their little group (McKinley's Stragglers, as Sue had named them), demanded it. Most of the adults were usually torn between being utterly terrified of Sue, to having a great amount of respect for her. The latter usually worn out though, for despite the woman's quick tongue and quicker temper, she usually had her head on straight. It had been her who had found and thus taken in the first wayward child- A youngster by the name of Kurt, whom she had found swaddled in blankets and abandoned-, and it had been her example that the other families followed. Two years ago Noah Puckerman had found Finn looting (clumsily, but nonetheless) through the contents of their meagre food hall after the adults had retreated back to their caravans for the night. Finn had blackened the smaller boy's eye, but a well placed fist to the taller male's solar plexus had given Noah the upper hand. From then on, the two were inseparable, and the Puckermans had another boy. Another example worth mentioning was that of Mike and Matt- Mike had simply appeared one day with a rather silent Matt in tow five years ago, and the Changs had good-naturedly taken the quiet boy under their wing.

Since it'd been Brittany who had first laid eyes on Santana; thus, it was unspoken agreement that the dark haired girl was her family's to watch, and teach.

While her father had been dazzling tired, life-beaten adults with families consisting of young, over-exuberant children with classic sleight of hand and card tricks, Brittany had spotted the tanned teenager sneaking in to watch a free show- Or so she thought. The young blonde had moved stealthily after the older girl, intent on blowing her cover and getting her tossed out, when she saw the Latina quietly lift the wallet of a man who had leaned forward to whack his noisy kid about the head, and pocket it before beating a slow, inconspicuous escape. Like any ten year old, Brittany had watched with a gaped jaw before scuttling after the other girl, grabbing on to her wrist before she was even aware of her blonde shadow.

The girl didn't seem as though she had any qualms in beating Brittany's face in for that stunt, but the looming appearance of a menacing Noah and a gigantic but not-quite-as-murderous Finn had made her think better about the fist she had raised.

"That's not yours," Brittany had said rather indignantly, gesturing towards the lump the stolen wallet made in the older girl's jacket.

"Yeah? Well tough luck Blondie, I say he deserves it for trying to fuck up his kid's ears. Besides, I'd have better use for this cash than he ever would." Dark brown eyes drifted to where the two boys stood, before she shoved her hands into her pockets. She knew how to pick her fights, and this wasn't one she could win should she go through with her plan to smack the blonde girl.

Still suspicious, Brittany had peered intently up at her, before asking slowly, "So you're like Robin Hood?" At the other's roll of the eyes, she cocked her head to the side and announced with firm finality, "After my papa's done, you're going to talk to him. He can help you, and you can stay with us if you've nowhere to go."

The girl spluttered before trying to make a hasty escape, but Noah shoved the other boy to the side, and she ended up running right into the hard lump that was Finn. She tried to dart back and around, but Noah had seized one of her arms in a firm grip, easily dodging all her punches. She decided that the best thing to do was probably just stop fighting. A hasty escape could always be attempted again later.

Apparently, the girl went by the name of Santana Lopez, and she was very much on her own at fourteen years of age. As she had grudgingly shared with Sue Sylvester and Jordan Pierce, she had no family to speak of and haven't had anyone for the past seven months. She would've just gone, if Sue hadn't browbeat her into promising to stick around- Not that she planned on keeping her word, but Sue was wily and had assigned Brittany, Noah and Finn to keep an eye on the surly Latina. Brittany, aged eleven, had been rather excited that she now had a new sister- Albeit an older one. Finn and Noah, aged fifteen and fourteen respectively, adored the sometimes ditzy blonde as though she were their younger annoying pest of a sibling, and had therefore not put up much of a fuss. They were, after all, intrigued by this newest addition.

After the two adults were done interrogating the thoroughly unhelpful and sulky girl (they'd taken the wallet away from her to try to return it to the rightful owner), they bade the children to 'run along to dinner'. Brittany thought Santana ate like someone who wasn't accustomed to it. To the younger girl, Santana seemed like a lion who had been starved for too long- Or maybe a famished racoon. Yeah, that fit better, she decided, since the older girl even had the eyebags.

The children of the troop had all gathered, and were watching Santana plow through her second helping of potatoes and meat stew. At first that had made her falter, but ultimately she had placed food as the higher priority and proceeded to ignore everyone's inquisitive stares and questioning looks. When she silently fetched a third helping, Noah had cracked a smile and looked to Finn, and the two boys then rejoined the eating- Seemingly trying to outdo Santana who, oddly, seemed to welcome that kind of camaraderie. By the end of it, she was even talking to them in more than one-word sentences. Most of the other children had dispersed, whether to their own places to quietly talk, or had been called away by their parents. Brittany remained, face propped up on two palms as she watched Santana eat in fascination.

"You're too skinny," She suddenly decided aloud, causing Santana to choke and shoot her a sideways glare. "So I guess it's okay that you eat as much as Finn. Maybe then you'll grow as fat as him, which would make you look better."

With that backhanded compliment, she bounced off towards her parents, leaving Santana spluttering about 'damn kids', and Finn asking Noah if he was_ that_ fat, while the mohawk'd boy hid a grin.

Of the children in the group, there were Brittany, Mercedes, Sam, Tina, Artie and Kurt, who were all eleven; Rachel, who was thirteen; Quinn, Matt and Puck, fourteen; Mike and Finn, who were fifteen. Then now there was Santana, fourteen. The newest girl was with Brittany's family, Finn with Puck's, Matt with Mike's, Mercedes with Rachel's, Quinn and Sam (who were siblings) with Tina's, and Kurt with Sue, who had once wryly called them a 'rainbow tent of misbegotten children whose biological parents should have used birth control'. However, she had had a gleam of affection and laughter in her eyes when she said it, so no one took any offense.

Most of them got along very well, but Santana was beginning to consider this her own living hell. Like any normal younger sister, Brittany had latched on to the older girl and proceeded to _annoy the shit_ out of her. Worse of all, she couldn't raise her hand to her or Noah would come along all glowering, nor could she yell at the blonde because then Brittany's blue _blue_ eyes would well with tears, _and then_ Noah would want to beat the tanned girl up. God, she couldn't win!

Not to mention that whenever Brittany's eyes glimmered with tears (which wasn't often), Santana felt like an ass whose job was to kick sleeping puppies.

The best she could do was foist Brittany off to the others her own age, and skip off to clumsily flirt with the older boys- Or pick fights with Quinn. Almost instantly, she and the hazel-eyed girl had struck up a rapport. In the mornings, one would throw the first insult, then the other would fire one right back, and the day continued on like so, with the two of them grinningly punching the other on the arm before retiring for the night. Whereas Santana was as vulgar as a seaman, Quinn was oddly cultured and well mannered, despite their lifestyle. Santana could see Quinn being decked out in pretty dresses with well polished shoes or something, if she had another life. As for the Latina, Quinn thought she was better off in a boat with smelly guys who spoke like her- Something that she informed the brunette of almost everyday. Except that she added in that Santana should be shipped off to Antarctica or something.

As time went on, though, Santana began to get settled in. She helped set up stalls for the fair, sometimes being assigned to buy supplies with the older boys and Quinn. Life with the McKinley Stragglers wasn't so bad- Except for when she was forced to do her reading and writing, but other than that, she was content. It sure beat the hell out of stealing and being fingered by dirty perverts, as she'd once told Brittany. Her relationship with the younger blonde improved to the point where she could tolerate Brittany's disjointed ramblings and odd one-liners, where she actually held a conversation with her _in spite_ of it.

Brittany, Santana decided one day, was fucking adorable. And life was pretty fucking ace.

Until they reached Lima, Ohio, a year and a half after Santana joined them. Then Sue decided that this was _the_ place to finally put down their roots and cease their travelling ways. This was _the_ place for their children to get a proper education now that between the families, they had amassed enough to settle down.

Settling down, Santana concluded, was a fucking load of bull.


	3. Chapter 2

**_Present Time_**

"What was that?"

Pulling his gaze away from Brittany's retreating form, Puck's lips twitched into a wider smile when his girlfriend launched herself into his chest, her arms reaching up to loop around his neck. The pleasure and _want_ that poured through his body at the feel of Quinn's lips against his nearly made him forget her question, forget that he was supposed to be watching out for Brittany, but he managed to recollect everything when they separated for a while. Quinn's hazel eyes were bright with barely suppressed excitement, full mouth curving into a huge grin as she waited in expectant silence.

"Britt has a visitor," He informed her lightly, though his own gaze darkened in curiosity. "Apparently they are in her room, wanting a private talk. That's a bit worrying on its own, I think."

Quinn hummed in agreement, head tilted slightly to the side. "Who is it?"

"I don't know. Do you want to know?" Puck teased her lightly, stealing another kiss, deepening it until she squirmed and pushed him away, face flushing red as she panted, nodding in response to his question. "Okay." Another breath-stealing kiss. "Whatever you want, I will deliver."

Pulling away slightly, Puck signalled Finn, gesturing towards the snotty man who had spoken to Brittany, asking his taller friend to stop the dude from leaving just yet. It was just their luck that he had gone around asking everyone if they needed refreshment, and was only just about to exit the room. Finn nodded and gave Puck a thumbs-up in return, moving swiftly to clamp one large hand down on the man's shoulder and squeeze harshly.

The squeak that the man emitted drew everyone's attention, and Puck could only roll his eyes in fond amusement. Really, sometimes, Finn was like one of those huge henchmen that villains in cartoons had. Though right now... Was scaring a little employee of the White House a punishable offense?

"Yo, waiter dude," Puck called, strolling over with Quinn and smacking Finn's hand off. "Who wanted to see Brittany Pierce?"

The small man had straightened with affront at being called a measly 'waiter', but one look to a benign Finn was almost enough to quell that show of bravado. "It was a private message," He sniffed, taking one cautionary step away from the taller guy.

Puck's eyes narrowed and Finn shuffled closer, prompting the panicking employee to stumble back another step. "I am not entirely sure of her identity," He quickly changed his stance, "but she asked for Ms Pierce by name, and she was in the audience when New Directions was performing. She was seated fairly near the front."

"What did she look like?" Finn rumbled, clearly interested.

"Uhhh... Black hair and dark eyes. She was dressed in a black dress, with her hair up." He winced when Puck lifted his hand, but let out a visible sigh when the mohawked man merely patted his bruised shoulder lightly.

"You may depart," Puck waved his hand, and the man did so, hastily. No one in this room was going to get any refreshment they had asked for, it would seem.

"'You may depart?'" Quinn mocked from his side with a smile, "Are you British? And, was that really necessary?"

"Aw babe, it was just something I saw on TV once. When was I going to get the chance to try it out?" He countered, before turning back to the subject at hand. "Black hair and dark eyes. Did any of you notice someone like that in the audience?"

"Yeah, like half the women, dude." Was Matt's reply, and Mike nodded. Finn shrugged.

The girls and Kurt conferred for a while, before Kurt spoke up with an irritated sigh. "Perhaps, if he had given an apt _description_ of her dress or features, we might have. As Matt said, half the women in the audience tonight were dark haired and it was near impossible to see the colours of their eyes in the darkness."

"I wasn't looking at the people," Finn mumbled, and Rachel reached over to pat his arm consolingly.

"Thank you, Finn, for keeping your attention on your dance steps." The tall boy grinned over at her, and she returned his smile.

"Odd," Puck mused, shaking his sleeve to look at his watch. "I'll give them five minutes before I go after her."

"It's funny, though," Kurt was speaking to Mercedes, though his voice carried enough for Puck and Quinn to hear, "I could have sworn I saw Santana sitting at a table with Mother near the front today. I couldn't be sure because the woman's back was to me," He continued, "but the glimpses I caught just brought Santana Lopez to mind."

Puck noticed Quinn paling next to him, and his brow furrowed. "Lopez upped and left years ago," He scoffed, drawing the blonde closer to his side. "There is no way she's gonna just show up _here_, in the White House... Babe?"

Quinn shook her head, gaze flickering between Puck's worried face and the door. Back when they were all in high school, Santana had been her closest friend. They had shared most of the same classes and had built up a really strong bond. But that had been before the Latina had just left when they were twenty-one without much of a goodbye. If it had really been Santana, Quinn wanted to see her.

If it had really been Santana, and if it were really her who was talking to Brittany right now, _so much shit_ was going to hit the fan tonight.

* * *

**_Continued Flashback_**

High School sucked. In fact, Santana groused, high schools were fucking wastes of space.

Six months of her life spent with America's high school system was six months already wasted. Why the hell was she here anyway? As if anyone in their right mind wanted to sit on their ass the whole day and be privy to dumbasses digging lint from their bellies or stuffing tiny people into lockers, and stuck up bitches whose goals in life were to make other people as miserable as they secretly were. She had so many other better things to do, and none of them included getting involved in a glaring contest with Schuester, who'd stare at her oh-so-disappointedly for mispronouncing a Spanish word. Just because she was Latina didn't mean she was fucking ace at that language. Racist bastard. Racist _paedophilic_ bastard.

Sue Sylvester had swept into the school and somehow wrangled the position of cheerleading coach – no one was really asking how she accomplished that – which meant that Santana didn't really have a choice in joining the team. She, Quinn, Brittany, Rachel, Mercedes and Kurt were the first to be roped into joining, going along with some crazy scheme Sue had which involved turning 'lazy, robotic, sorry excuses for teenaged American homosexuals into a triple threat that not even a circus of warbling terrorists armed to the teeth with guns could beat'. No one really understood that analogy, but they went along with it. After all, being on the team was fun enough for everyone. They got to act, they got to dance, and best of all, they got to sing. Whilst they'd been on the road, the children had realized that they all had at least a fraction of a good voice – and, most importantly, they sounded fantastic together. Once Rachel and Kurt found out that schools could have something called Glee Club, everyone was sold. They were performers and, being in high school, they didn't really get a chance to really showcase their talent – as Rachel pointed out often enough that Santana itched to introduce her knuckles to that face. Together, they set up that club as an extracurricular at the school, and reluctantly accepted Schuester as their director. They wanted Sue, but she was too busy trying to get the school's team of lacklustre cheerleaders up to par. Everyone was of the general consensus that the Spanish teacher was creepy and peculiar and had this weird tendency to turn up whenever there was a fight amongst students ("A chance to touch underage children? He is _so_ there!" as Santana had mocked whenever they heard of any new incidents), but he was the only one available. Well, he and that bug-eyed guidance counsellor, but you know. Where he went, she went too. Kinda like Chang and Eng, except that would be so _wrong_.

One thing that Santana did like about school, though, was the boys. Emphasis on the _boys_. Most of them weren't sexually experienced (part of their charm, really) or even particularly well versed when it came to the proper way to woo a girl, but it was still a great step up from being touched by disgusting, dirty-fingered, beer-bellied perverts on the back of a truck. Compared to _that,_ inexperienced _boys_ who lasted as long as a dead battery was a definite improvement, sex wise. Santana liked having that feeling of power, the feeling of absolute control over people who were bigger, taller and stronger than her. It was an absolute rush.

And _oh_, the girls. The _girls_. Doing _them_ was even more awesome, because she was _debauching_ _virgins_. It was definitely as fun as it sounded. And it wasn't just random people whose V-cards she swiped. She got Puck's, Finn's, Matt's and Quinn's (to her everlasting amusement). Quinn was actually her first girl, but she was going to take that secret with her to the grave. That time had been all awkward and shit, but luckily for her (and her _rep_); Quinn had been way too intoxicated to remember a whole lot of the fumbling.

Underage sex _and_ drinking. She was a total badass. Guys liked that she wasn't another simpering female (it didn't hurt that she was smokin'), and girls were drawn to that badassery. Sex made school so much more tolerable.

But aside from Glee Club and cheerleading (uniforms) and sex in spacious gym showers, Santana really fucking hated high school.

}{}{}{

Brittany, on the other hand, loved school. She loved cheerleading; she loved glee club; she loved the fact that she and those of her age group would be able to graduate on year early thanks to Sue and their parents insisting they keep up with their studies while on the road. School – and the amount of people so close to her in age all congregated together in one place – amazed her and nearly made up for them not travelling in their big family group again. Those days, the adults had told the children soberly, were over for them. Lima, Ohio was their new permanent home. That was a little off-putting and many complaining sessions were had between the children, but there wasn't anything they could do about it _now_, was there? One day, though. They were going to venture out of this dead end town and put their mark on the world. Brittany could hardly _wait_.

Lima wasn't that big of a town to begin with, but the addition of six families made it seem as though a whole new community had arrived to take it over. With Sue in their midst, that wouldn't have been that far off.

But that wasn't any of Brittany's concern. All she knew was that life was _wonderful_. She had amazing parents, awesome friends, and a... ...a _something_ of a sister in Santana. She wasn't too sure what it was yet. She liked (loved?) Santana and looked up to her as a younger sister did to an older, sure, and she was three years younger than the Latina, but it didn't mean that she was completely _clueless_ as to what had taken place prior to when the older girl came home smelling of smoke and something else, hair and clothes dishevelled. It was always then that Santana was at her most indulgent with the younger blonde, and though Brittany enjoyed Santana's company during moments like those, she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose in faint disgust when Santana drifted through the doors on a cloud of smoke and sated lust.

"You smell funny," She'd complained once when she was thirteen and Santana was sixteen, "were you with Noah again?"

"No," Santana had responded lazily, flopping back on the bed. "Jason. Basketball team. Tall, curly hair, good kisser." She had sighed with a smile, one arm draped across her face so that Brittany couldn't see her eyes, "He does this thing with his –"

Brittany had instantly clapped her hands over her ears because _ew_. She had made the mistake of listening through one of those sentences before, and she had not been able to look at Matt the same way for weeks.

Most of their talks went along those lines, until Santana started talking about the girls she had been with. Brittany had been slightly appalled when Santana mentioned Quinn, because _what_, but she felt a funny stab in her stomach whenever the older girl brought up another girl. When Santana was with boys, the feeling was barely there, but when she was with a _girl_, it felt like someone was doing that Chinese needle thing to her. Ackin-juncture or something. Sue got it on a regular basis and it looked_ scary_, okay? Mike Chang had assured her once that you couldn't really feel the needles, but she wasn't fooled. They were _needles._

}{}{}{

On the day of Santana's seventeenth birthday, they shared their first kiss. It wasn't fourteen year old Brittany's first kiss by any means – Sam had taken it, and nowadays she made out with Artie with startling regularity – but it _was_ her first lip-on-lip with another of the same gender. A bit of her wondered if kissing someone who was _technically _but _not_ her sister was wrong, but for that moment, she was content to follow Santana's lead.

They were having their own private celebration at home, since the Pierces were at work. Brittany had baked a rather sad, deflated looking muffin for Santana, sticking as many candles as she could onto it before bringing it out to the backyard, where Santana was lounging. When the whole muffin went up in flames, the older girl had managed to stop screaming long enough to fetch a cup of water and pour it all over the concrete, ultimately putting out the fire and spreading bits of muffin everywhere. The two of them were left staring at the remains.

Perhaps dipping the muffin dough liberally in vegetable oil before putting it on the plate hadn't been the best idea, but Brittany had honestly thought that that was what the recipe had instructed her to do. And now, it was ruined. She couldn't help the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes, and when Santana had wrapped her arms around the younger girl, she cried tears of relief.

Everything could have been _so much worse_, she knew that, and her parents were going to _kill_ her if they heard of this. There was a reason, after all, that they had banned their daughter from using the kitchen appliances, ever.

But Santana had merely hugged her close and placed a kiss on her ear, murmuring assurances that Brittany was sweet and that this birthday was no worse than other birthdays because "I still get my birthday kiss, right B?"

And Brittany had smiled messily through her tears and nodded, turning her head to do as she did every year and place a kiss on Santana's tanned cheek. This year, though, Santana shifted so that Brittany ended up kissing her on the lips, something that had the blonde pulling backwards and stuttering out wide-eyed apologies. Santana merely shrugged and did it again, prolonging the chaste contact and tugging Brittany closer. It hadn't progressed to anything more, though Brittany caught Santana looking at her rather oddly a few times over the passing days. She didn't think too much about it, and they didn't speak of or repeat it for such a long time that the incident was beginning to fade from Brittany's mind.

At least, not until Brittany turned sixteen and Santana was eighteen, going on nineteen.


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note;; unbeta'd, and finished up at 3 in the morning. Probably mistakes galore, my apologies.**

* * *

_**Present Time**_

There was one thing that Santana had always been regardless of her station in life, and that was arrogant, secure in herself and her abilities to carry out whatever she had set her mind to.

And in this case, it was to kiss all coherent thought out of Brittany's mind.

When she felt Brittany's arm curve around her neck and a cool hand reaching up to cup her cheek, Santana grinned, the corners of her mouth pulling up as smugness spread all throughout her body. Her own arms were looped around Brittany's waist, holding the taller woman upright as her mouth slanted over the blonde's. It'd been six years since their last kiss, last touch- Last words, even. And their last exchange hadn't been filled with bubbles and sunshine daisies. No, it had been filled to the brim with bitterness, hurt and this terrifying sense of finality. It had been as though a steep trap had snapped shut the door of the connection they shared, slamming it hard and severing all ties.

Could Santana really be blamed for getting immersed within the kiss, falling back upon muscle memory to coax Brittany to open her mouth and coax her tongue out to play? Could she really be blamed for allowing herself to forget that they weren't who they were before- not even close-, that they were in the _White House_, and that things were never this easy?

She was, however, forcibly reminded of all of the above when a palm crashed into the side of her face, causing her to stagger backwards, hands cradling her throbbing cheek. What the _hell_? That had taken her completely by surprise, and she hadn't enjoyed it at all. Plus, a whole slew of _other_ memories came with that smack.

* * *

"_He _what_?"_

_Thirteen year old Brittany flinched away from the older girl, blue eyes wide. She didn't really see what the problem was- Or why telling Santana that Sam had come over for a study session earlier and ended up being her first kiss would cause the girl to look as though she was going to explode. Right now, Santana reminded her of that guy in that Hercules movie- The one with fire for hair and in serious need of anger management classes._

"_Sam came over and he just kissed me," Brittany repeated, blinking owlishly. She wasn't really scared of Santana, it was just that her yell had been unexpected._

_The brunette seemed to seethe ferociously in silence for a few moments before she could manage a "Did you like it? Did you want it?"_

_Brittany had to think about it and recall the feel of Sam clumsily pressing his mouth to hers. It had been too enthusiastic on his part, and lacked any kind of finesse and skill. All in all, it hadn't been that enjoyable. Not an ideal or perfect first kiss, anyway. "No, not really."_

"_Okay. Okay." Rubbing her fingers against her temple, Santana thought about it for a few seconds. "Okay. The next time someone tries to kiss you and you don't want it to happen, smack them."_

"_Smack them?" Brittany echoed, confused._

"_Yes. Slap them across the face. It'd get them to back off and put a little respect into their pea-sized brains. Alright?"_

"_Okay."_

"_Yeah? Tell me what you'll do if someone tries to kiss you without permission. You...Will..." Santana coaxed._

"_I will smack their face," Brittany parroted obediently._

_Santana smiled then, teeth flashing as he picked up the younger girl in a tight hug._

_}{}{}{_

_Two days later Brittany bounced into Santana's room, a wide grin on her face._

"_I smacked Sam today when he said that he was my boyfriend and tried to kiss me," She informed the older girl proudly, hopping up on the bed and paying absolutely no mind to the books and notes scattered on the sheets._

"_Yeah?" Santana returned her smirk, reaching one fist out in order to bump it gently against Brittany's._

"_Yeah! Then he went to tell Quinn and I think she might be angry..." Brittany trailed off, feeling a little dismayed at the thought._

"_That's okay. You were standing up for yourself and that kind of shit is important. I'll deal with Q if she gets hissy." Santana reassured the young blonde, before dark eyes turned pensive. "I might have to have a little talk with Handsy Ken about keeping his grubby paws to himself," She mused._

"_No it's fine!" Brittany insisted, "He was really close but I didn't want him to kiss me again so I slapped him like this-" Enthusiastically, she swung her hand, not really paying attention to what she was doing. Before her flailing palm could connect with Santana's face, however, the older girl had managed to snag her wrist and pull said hand down._

"_Easy there tiger," She said, voice wry, "I don't need a throbbing cheek. Sue would flip a bitch if I turned up to practice with a swollen face tomorrow." At Brittany's pout, she grinned, thumb rubbing soothingly over the blonde's hand, "How about you demonstrate your smack of doom on Puck tomorrow? Make it good and convincing, and I'll rate you out of ten."_

_When Brittany nodded and bounced excitedly, Santana grinned. Oh, she _couldn't wait_ for Noah Puckerman to find out how strong Brittany's arm truly was._

_

* * *

_

And now she was on the receiving end of that arm.

"_Fuck_," She managed to hiss out, rubbing her face gently, "What the _fuck_ was that for?"

"Just carrying out some good advice," Brittany retorted, before opening the door. She had to jump back when Puck and Finn nearly fell through the entryway, with Quinn scuttling in just behind them.

When the shorter blonde caught sight of the disgruntled brunette, however, she didn't react the way anyone expected her to. Noah had thought she would gasp and start shouting; Finn wasn't thinking much of anything, instead choosing to gape wordlessly at Santana; and Brittany had expected her to... Well, do something, _anything_ besides just _walking_ up to her old friend and engulfing her in a massive hug, lips to a tanned ear as she breathed out words too softly for the others to catch. Whatever she said had Santana smiling and pulling her closer, burying her face into the curve of Quinn's neck before they separated.

It irked Brittany when she realized that what she felt was _jealously_ when Santana's fingers lingered on Quinn's arm for just that second too long.

}{}{}{

_**Ten minutes ago**_

"Um," Quinn cleared her throat nervously when Puck kept staring at her worriedly.

"What is it babe?" He asked, palm pressing soothingly against her hip. It radiated warmth even through the material of her jeans, and Quinn revelled in it. The comfort and stability she felt at the unconscious gesture gave her courage enough to gesture weakly at the door the man had disappeared through.

"We should check on Britt," She managed, linking her fingers with his and towing him (and Finn by default) out of the room. "Because I think her visitor_ is_ most probably Santana."

"Wait, what?" The mohawk'd man stopped them in their tracks, tugging at their interlaced hands gently until she turned to face him. "How do you know that? Seriously, Quinn, what's going on?" His hazel eyes were so _open_ and soft, it made her bite nervously at her lower lip, suddenly afraid of what his reaction would be at what she knew. After Santana had bailed and left Brittany's heart in a mess, he had gone on a rampage, reminding Quinn rather forcibly of old Godzilla versus King Kong movies. It'd taken him days to get that rage under control, for her to find and talk to him. Of everyone in New Directions (aside from Brittany, for obvious reasons), he had taken Santana's departure the hardest.

* * *

"_Puck?"_

_For the first time in four days, the young man wasn't busy destroying something, or blasting angry music and drinking while he destroyed something else. No, it seemed as though his energy was gone and he was crashing. It was a little disconcerting actually, for Quinn to see the usually rambunctious boy lying silently on his bed, unblinking eyes fixed on the ceiling. Unnerved as she was though, Quinn made her way over and sat on the edge of the bed, her hands twisting nervously in her lap._

"_Quinn. Sup." His voice was flat and a little rusty, and he sounded so tired and much older than his twenty one years of age._

"_Your mum let me in," She offered, unsure of what else to say. He didn't deign to reply, instead letting out a non-committal grunt. Impulsively, she shifted to lie on her side, adjusting her dress so it didn't ride up her legs before reaching for his hand and locking their fingers together._

"_Noah," She tried again, voice soft, "You weren't the only one she left behind."_

_He moved, turning his head to look at first their joined hands, then into her eyes. "I know."_

"_Talk to me, please?" She asked (read: pleaded), thumb smoothing over the back of his hand almost absently._

_The man remained silent for a few moments, causing Quinn to believe that he wasn't going to say anything before he croaked, "She was my first."_

"_I know." Quinn hesitated, before admitting, "She was mine, too." She thought she caught a faint glimmer of his old self flash into hazel eyes, but it disappeared far too quickly._

"_But Brittany's like a sister to me," He finally continued, "She may have been my first, but Britt is like my younger sister. And no one should be able to fuck with my family. Doesn't matter if they're my first or not." Turning onto his side and propping his head up on a hand, Puck managed a faint smile. "A part of me wants to find her and kick her ass for doing that to Britt- To all of us. Another part hopes she'd crash and burn. But yet another wishes her the best in life. She managed to get out of his dead town faster than any of us, anyway._

"_Maybe she's right, Quinn. New Directions would probably never amount to anything, and we're all what we never wanted to be- Lima losers."_

_All of this was just serving to depress her as well. With a sigh, Quinn wiggled closer and pillowed her face into his shirt, one arm laid over his chest. He froze for a while before laying one hand gently on the small of her back, fingers splayed open and palm warm. Puck had lost a 'bro' when Santana left, and Quinn had lost her best friend. Optimism seemed out of their grasp but Quinn _really_ didn't want to wallow in self-pity, so she figured the next best thing was mutual comfort._

_Or well, more of silent comfort for Puck while Quinn plotted for ways in which she could either entice Santana back, or get them all out of Lima whilst simultaneously trying to fix both Puck and Brittany._

_

* * *

_

"Quinn?" It was Brittany who found her voice first, managing to call out the shorter blonde's name in confusion. "Did you know Santana was going to be here?"

Said girl bit her lip, hazel glance lifting to sweep over the brunette woman before she shook her head. Puck stalked closer, hands balled into angry fists as he situated himself firmly by his girlfriend's side, glowering down the tip of his nose to an uninterested Santana who was peering at her nails in a bored fashion. Once she had deemed them perfect, she looked up, dark brown eyes impassive.

"Hudson," She nodded to the taller man, before smirking at a fuming Puck, "Puckerone. How's life been treating you?"

Without giving anyone a chance to snarl out a response, Santana sauntered Brittany and gripped her elbow before steering the both of them quickly out of the room. Quinn supposed that the reason for that was so that everyone was still in a general state of confusion and wouldn't be able to stop her from doing just about anything. The three of them left behind could faintly make out Santana saying "Come on B, I'm _dying_ to see the rest of New Directions again. Reintroductions are in order."

Turning to Quinn, both men crossed their arms over their chest while the shorter one raised one eyebrow at her. "What," Puck demanded lowly, "Was _that_?"

"It's really not my story to tell," The blonde fidgeted, "Either Sue or Santana should be the one telling everyone- We should go after them."

"Quinn," Puck sighed, annoyed and utterly frustrated.

"Please, Noah," Quinn touched her hand to his arm, "It isn't my place to say. My knowing was a complete accident."

He didn't seem convinced, but neither did he put up any more protest as the three of them quickly and silently returned to the room the rest of New Directions was in, just a few seconds before Santana shoved at the door and held it open for Brittany before she stepped in herself and drawled, loud enough to gain everyone's attention, "Sup, bitches?"

The instantaneous silence would have been funny and so reminiscent of high school Santana that Brittany would have smiled fondly and laughed, except you know, they weren't there anymore. Everyone had changed in more ways than one- Everyone _including_ Santana, as was evident by where they currently were.

After a few seconds had ticked by, the room exploded, voices drowning others out as they all questioned Santana's appearance. The general consensus wavered between _"What the hell?"_ and _"Oh dear god it's Santana"_ with a _"Santana's at the white house too?"_ thrown in. When the racket died down a little, Rachel's voice rang out the loudest:

"This room is for New Directions members only. By quitting six years prior, _Santana_," She spat out the taller woman's name, "You forfeited the right to stand here amongst us. Furthermore-"

Before she could continue, a chorus of _"Hell yea"_s and "_what she said"_s rang out, and Santana found herself on the receiving end of at least seven glares. Her eyes rolled contemptuously and she was about to shoot a scathing remark that would smack everyone with a face full of nostalgia, but Sue chose _that_ moment to stroll in.

"No can do, turnip dwarf. Santana _is_ New Directions."

Everyone gaped while Sue, smirking at her ability to render everyone speechless, tilted her head in the Latina's direction.

"Damn straight." Santana grinned smugly, dropping into the nearest seat and crossing her legs before folding her arms around her chest. Her dark gaze met with Quinn's pleading hazel ones asking for her to break it to everyone as gently as she could, before she looked to Brittany. The tall blonde just looked confuddled.

"I _own_ New Directions. All yo shiz are belong to us- Or rather, _me._"

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	5. Chapter 4

**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** PG this chapter.  
**Summary: **AU. _There was one thing that Santana had always been regardless of her station in life, and that was arrogant, secure in herself and her abilities to carry out whatever she had set her mind to. _  
**Spoilers:** Bits and pieces from everywhere, so to be safe, up to current episodes.  
**Word Count:** 2500

**Author's Note;; After...a year... I kick out a little chapter. Sorry to those who've been reading and checking back! Also, I'm way rusty at writing, and this is unbeta'd. My sincere apologies.**

* * *

As it was in any clichéd film or book, silence reined for a few moments before pandemonium broke out.

"_What?"_

"She can't _own_ New Directions, we're not _animals_!"

"Oh _hell_ to the no! Lemmie at 'er! _Lemmie at 'er_!"

"That's _bullshit!"_

"Dissension in the ranks. How _delicious_."

"I'll knock her teeth in, just let go of me!"

"I don't see how she could own any part of New Directions, seeing as she left us a long time ago."

"Are you lot _insane_? You can't beat her up in the _White House_- The President would totally execute you!"

The smug grin still on her face, Santana lounged casually on her seat and watched as the members of the group flailed and screeched their little hearts out. When Sue sat next to her, she offered the older woman a nod and a firm handshake, revelling in the proud gleam in Sue's eyes. Despite the threats flung her way and the couple of people who had to be restrained by others so that they wouldn't be able to charge over and punch her lights out, Santana seemed totally at ease, to the extent that she was now sweeping her gaze appreciatively over a silent Brittany's form.

Brittany hated her for it.

But Santana had always been the definition of keeping cool- Hardly anything managed to ruffle her feathers when she projected that facade of being completely in control. Brittany used to think that Santana's acting skills were marvellous, but now she just wanted so badly to wipe that smirk off her face. With another slap, most preferably.

It took an irate Noah Puckerman letting out an ear-splitting whistle (Santana grinned, because she had been the one to teach that to him) before everyone quieted down. And even then, most of them were glaring in a rather hostile way at Santana.

"Explain yourself, _Lopez_," Noah managed through clenched teeth, the placating hand Quinn had placed on his upper arm going unregistered.

"What, no '_Auntie Tana'_?" Santana teased, her grin widening as the man flushed darker. "I don't see why I should; I was quite enjoying watching all you headless chickens fall over yourselves. It's the most entertainment I've had in years, to be frank."

"Santana." Quinn's reproachful tone had the Latina looking at her, before she deflated a little.

"Okay, okay." Santana grumbled. "Way to ruin my fun, Fabray."

"You can have as much fun as you want later, Napoleon. They are, after all, bound by contract."

Santana brightened again at Sue's words. "That's right," She leered (mostly at Brittany), "And all you moneybags can't break that contract or I'd throw you out of house and home- Except that none of you actually have houses, do you? It really is splendid and nostalgic to find out that your aspirations are still as low as they used to be when we were all in High School."

"_San_." This time, it was Brittany who sighed out Santana's name, reminiscent of how she used to _before_, when she'd thought Santana was being too mean. The use of her old nickname had the woman doing a double take, brown eyes widening ever so slightly before she managed to compose herself.

"I don't owe any of you any explanations but long story short; I left, got rich, bought all of you out and got you to sign ironclad contracts. Who do you think manages you all? Who do you think even wanted to _bother_ managing the group of loser wannabes who didn't have a clear proposal for _anything_?" Getting to her feet, Santana crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes.

"I made all of you _great_. If it weren't for me, you all would still be in Lima, talking about what might have been and getting together every other week to warble out some show tunes. New Directions owes me _everything-_ Except wait, I already own this group of ragtag howler monkeys. I want for nothing else." The way her gaze lingered on Brittany though, seemed to contradict her bitter statements.

"There's really nothing you can do, so I suggest you sit tight and make as much money as you can, and I'll let you all buy yourselves out when your contracts end in three years." Smoothing out her dress, Santana gripped Brittany's arm and once again started towing her towards the exit. "As for me, I wants to gets mah drinks on with the president."

A lie, but it wouldn't do any harm to inject a bit of awe in the stew of hatred and astonishment that was rolling around the room.

* * *

Once they were out of the room, Brittany yanked her arm back- Or at least, she tried to. Santana clung to it, placing her free hand over Brittany's and smiling charmingly at whomever they happened to pass. After what felt like _forever _to Brittany, though in actuality had only been a few minutes, Santana pulled her into an empty room before locking it and leaning on it with a sigh.

When it didn't seem that the older woman was going to say anything, Brittany spoke.

"Was that true?" She asked, her voice sounding too loud and defensive even to herself.

Finally, Santana looked up, eyebrows raising in question. Brittany had forgotten just how _expressive_ Santana's face could be- With a twitch or twist of certain muscles, she could portray exactly what she was feeling without saying a word. Back then, Brittany had loved being able to discern Santana's every thought just by looking at her face (and the fact that it's such a lovely face helped), but now she didn't really like that Santana was staring at her with such…disdain.

"Do you really _own_ New Directions?" Falling silent, Brittany watched as that slight sneer was replaced with an involuntary smile that bordered on a smirk.

Santana's smile widened when she saw where Brittany's gaze was fixed. "Eyes up here, Britt," She crossed her arms and cocked her hip to the side in a gesture of confidence that Brittany used to admire… and adore.

By the flush that was rapidly darkening Brittany's fair skin, Santana guessed that it still had a bit of an effect on the younger woman. Or she was just embarrassed at being caught looking at Santana's lips. Either way, it was a win for Santana.

Taking a few steps forward, she sank into a chair and kicked off her heels before drawing her feet up and under her. A small tilt of her head in invitation had Brittany hesitating, before she sat on a couch that practically tried to eat her. If she wanted to make a hasty escape later, it wasn't going to be easy to get off this couch. For a brief moment, Brittany wondered why the president had bought a people eating couch before her thoughts jerked back to Santana, who was silently gazing at her.

Brittany was still as lovely and gorgeous as she had been six years ago- Lovelier, if that was even possible. At eighteen, Brittany still had this certain innocence about her that shone forth when she smiled. With a small pang of dismay, Santana wondered if she was the cause of Brittany losing that. At twenty-four, Brittany had matured, with laugh lines crinkling the corners of her eyes when she smiled and laughed. Not that Santana had been on the receiving end of either…yet. But she had had the chance to observe her ex-girlfriend when New Directions had been performing. Throughout the whole thing, one of the only words Santana's brain could conjure was '_guh_'. If the blonde had been a great dancer when Santana had left, she was now a _fantastic_ goddess of dance. Sue, who had undoubtedly caught on to the one-sided eye-sexing that had been taking place, had placed a firm grip on Santana's upper arm. She wasn't sure if there wouldn't be bruises later.

"I'm sorry, Britt," Santana said finally, ignoring Brittany's previous question for the time being. "I never meant to leave that way- Leave _you_ that way. In hindsight, sharing my plans would probably have been the best solution. I have no excuse." Well, she actually did. They were jealousy, intense dislike and panic, to name a few. But she really had nothing to say that could explain her almost total abandonment of Brittany. And her failure to communicate until now, six years later.

"Why _did _you leave, Santana?" Brittany asked, ignoring the fact that Santana had pretty much said she had always intended to leave them- Leave her. "I thought we were happy."

"_No,"_ Santana blurted out more forcefully than she had intended, mentally smacking herself when she saw Brittany flinch. "No, I wasn't. Don't get me wrong- Being with you made me happy, but staying around all that lack of ambition and then-nonsensical plans was killing me slowly. I've always liked having a plan, but everyone seemed content to float along and expect good things to fall into their lap."

And Brittany, being Brittany, had been content to follow where the rest of them lead. Santana, knowing that Brittany didn't want to go to college and would have been _miserable_ being separated from the rest of her family, had chosen what she had then deemed the lesser of two evils.

Taking a deep breath, Santana continued, "I went to business school and graduated after two years. All of my time went into studying and working, and when I was done with school I worked for one of my old lecturers, who had a small shoe company on the side." Her eyes rolled as she said, almost affectionately, "He was Irish." Brittany's confused look prompted her to carry on hurriedly.

"Sue somehow found me and told me about how ND was still performing on roadsides and such. She said, since I had been in business school, I would know how to manage ND and make it the greatest band of wailing cats that ever existed. Her words, not mine." The slight twitch of Brittany's lips inspired newfound confidence in Santana. "It's… Kind of complicated. It started off as me being the silent partner- I mean, she said that she told you all that she was ND's business manager, right?"

Brittany nodded.

"Not really. I didn't have the money, but Sue did. I had the business degree, Sue didn't. So she fronted the money to turn ND into a business and for your salaries, and I wrote up all the paperwork. Then, two years ago, Rory decided that America wasn't green enough, and he returned to Ireland. He made me a partner." She couldn't help the proud grin. "Three months ago, he bought me out and with that I finally had enough to buy ND as a company from Sue. About that time, a date was being set for your performance here, at the White House. I thought tonight was the best time to let everyone know that I'm back and I don't intend on leaving again. I liked singing and dancing- But I think I prefer this, though I really did miss you something horrible. But I figured that you hated me… Would hate me more if I came crawling back, after causing you all that pain, with nothing to show for it."

Throughout her speech, Santana had been inching closer and closer to Brittany, moving off her chair and onto the ground, unmindful of her dress. Hesitantly, she reached out and clasped Brittany's hands in her own gently, nearly cheering when Brittany didn't pull away. As steadily as she could, Santana looked into Brittany's deep blue eyes.

"I love you, Brittany. I always have. Six years doesn't change anything for me- I just wanted us to have _more_, aside from each other and New Directions. I _knew _they could be _great_, and I _was_ going to tell everyone what I was leaving for. Then they said that if I left, I was a traitor." Lips twisting, Santana looked away. "I was so angry when they said that… So I just left."

Brittany looked as though she was about to cry. "You left me because you were angry at what our friends said?"

Santana winced. It sounded so horrible when phrased like that- Though technically, it was true. "It wasn't just that…" She protested feebly. "I just-"

"Why did you have us sign contracts?" Brittany interrupted, pulling out of Santana's grasp and angrily dashing at her eyes with a hand. "We thought it was weird when Sue gave it to us but we all signed anyway because we thought _she_ was our business manager. Not you."

Another wince. Brittany really was in fine form tonight. However, Santana figured she was allowed to show as much attitude as she wanted as long as it didn't go on for forever. And in this case, forever meant hours. Santana wasn't a particularly patient person, but the years had mellowed her. Slightly.

"Those contracts protect everyone involved," She answered a little belatedly, "After _my replacement _up and quit so that he could set up his own acapella group, I thought it was best for that to get fixed. After all, I couldn't have everyone just leaving, could I? Every person in New Directions has a role- I'll be damned if I had to keep finding new talent to replace quitters. Besides, it would suck if everyone had the chance to just quit when they found out that I was handling the business side of things." She paused, then shrugged one shoulder.

"They're also to ensure that you guys have a steady income and that I can't just fire anyone who pisses me off without probable cause. And no, slapping me once is not something you can get fired for." In for a penny…

"Neither is getting involved with someone else in the group- Me included." Slowly, she reached for Brittany's hands again, linking their fingers.

"I did what I did because I was running on my emotions and I was very obviously a stupid kid who made a ton of assumptions that are coming around to bite me in the ass." Her fingers ran up and down Brittany's arm, trailing up till they rested on her shoulders, thumbs briefly caressing Brittany's exposed collarbone before she cupped Brittany's face. Then she held her breath, internally exhaling a relieved sigh when Brittany leaned into her palm ever so slightly.

"I really do love you, Brittany… And I really am sincerely sorry for hurting you." Anxiously, she used one hand to rummage about in her purse before pulling out a little black box. Flipping it open, Santana sucked in a breath.

"We have so much to sort through, I know. But you should marry me anyway."


End file.
